Hand of Heaven
by permanentwritersblock
Summary: Ashlin &Fallon Mainciel, sibling Shadowhunters, leave home in Idris to find a new family with Nephilim of the London Institute, but along the way Ashlin is contacted by a higher power and given a larger purpose. Things change when she finds herself committing illegal acts and all is not as it seems. possible change in rating later, reviews are much appreciated!


**What's up, guys! Welcome to my Mortal Instruments fic. It's from the POV of characters that I've invented—I hope that's not too weird—and it follows their lives from Idris to London. Not sure how long it's going to be yet and I may need to put the rating up later in the story if I'm feeling up for lemons. But don't worry, I don't intend to pull a Cassie and go all brother-sister on you. There are more characters to come, trust me. Leaving me reviews to let me know what you're thinking is super helpful and you can tell me whether you think fluff or lemons would be better. So, original ideas and what not goes to Cassandra Clare, I own nothing except the characters, I suppose. Thanks for reading!**

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Chapter 1

'Get out.'

'What?' Ashlin Mainciel stared at her mother, complete and utter shock coursing through her body.

'I said get out.' Her mother's face was hard, her eyes like cold steel. 'You will not bring weakness upon this family name. Leave us.'

'Mum, please—'

'Quiet, Fallon.'

Fallon Mainciel fell silent, his eyes on his sister's white-blonde hair. Ashlin blinked in astonishment. She had always wondered about her parents and their intolerance for weakness. She had always wondered how long it would be before they could not look past hers any longer. But she had not expected it to come today. Every day she told herself that it wouldn't be today; maybe tomorrow. Never today. But today had finally come.

'Where will I go?' Ashlin breathed, devastated rejection choking her throat, constricting like a boa around her neck.

'I don't care. Leave Idris. You will never darken our doorstep again,' her mother said. There was no hint of emotion in her eyes. Ashlin's gaze moved to her father, who was glaring at the floor intently.

'Dad?'

'Don't, Ash,' Fallon began softly. She whipped around to face him.

'Did you know about this?' she demanded. He watched her, his light blue eyes sad, and then shook his head. How could he have known? Ashlin and Fallon were best friends. He could never have done this to her.

Ashlin looked all around at her family: her mother was staring at her stonily, skinny arms folded across her chest; her father was looking everywhere but at her—he was always the weak one, she thought unkindly; and Fallon was standing a little further back, his jaw taut, his hair in his eyes.

Feeling hot, unwelcome tears bubble up in her eyes, she whirled on her heel and stormed up the stairs, desperately fighting the rising lump in her throat. If they wanted her gone, she'd sure as hell go. She wasn't sticking around for a family that didn't love her. Grabbing her trunk from on top of her wardrobe, she began hurling her belongings into it, pell-mell.

She thrust her stele into her back pocket and slung her weapons belt around her waist, ignoring the tears that were blurring her vision. She refused to let them fall. Weak or not, she was not emotionally vulnerable. Not like this. She would not let them see her break.

With a very random selection of clothes packed, a jumble of weapons—hardly any of her matching sets had made the cut—and feeling like there was something important she'd forgotten, she made her way downstairs, her trunk banging off her leg painfully with every step.

'Ash!'

She turned at the door to see Fallon hurrying down the stairs, his own case in his hand. 'What are you doing, Fallon?'

'I'm not letting you do this by yourself. I'm coming with you. Mum and dad are wrong. You're not weak. You're … vulnerable. I'm coming,' he repeated firmly.

She appraised her elder brother, who looked so like her: very blonde hair with pale blue eyes, long limbs, high eye-brows, thin face, nose and mouth … he was her best friend. She couldn't leave without him. With a nod, the two hurried out into the dying sunlight, wondering where to go, without pausing to exchange another word with their parents.

There was no one else. They had no other family in Idris, no other family outside of it, either.

They would have to go to an Institute. Neither of them particularly wanted to; they'd never spent much time with other Shadowhunters and there would certainly be some there. Silently, they agreed upon London. At least they'd be able to speak English there.

'Ash!' Fallon hissed, shaking her shoulder violently. She jerked upright and a pain like a white hot bolt of lightning lanced through her forehead. She cried out and crumpled forwards, slumping against Fallon's shoulder. 'Ash, what's going on?' he demanded.

Ash was whimpering, her eyes watering from the agony. She did not know what was happening. She'd never experienced pain like this before. Not even when she'd been bitten by a Drevak demon, and had to be taken to a warlock to be healed. It was blinding—the whole room was entirely white—she could see nothing and Fallon's voice was fading.

She was seized by a sudden fear that she was dying. It wasn't uncommon for Shadowhunters to die young, but she always thought that only counted when one was out battling demons.

But through the white hot pain, a face began to shimmer. It was covered in dirt and smeared with blood, and was distinctly female. Her hair was scraped back from her face in a practical pony-tail but was matted and sticky with blood. The image seemed to become clearer, a whole scene forming in her mind.

The girl lay on the dirty ground in what looked like a park, a duck pond glimmering with the reflection of the moon some distance behind her. She was dressed in gear and had a seraph blade clutched in one hand. But her eyes were closed and she was unmoving. As Ash watched, as though in a dream, an unfamiliar demon began to advance on the fallen Nephilim.

She'd never seen a demon like this one before. It was tall, grey, and looked as though it's hands were engulfed in fire—some kind of purple and black flame that looked very dangerous. She didn't know what it would do, but she could tell that it was not good. Gripped by a petrified fear for the unconscious Shadowhunter who was about to become a meal, Ash wished and wished that she was there, able to help.

And quite abruptly, words formed in her mind. There was no audible voice, no tone, or inflection. Just words.

_You will find her in the park. Be quick or be too late._

Just as suddenly as it had come, it was gone and all Ash could see in front of her was Fallon's worried face, his brow creased and his bowed lips parted in shock and worry.

'What the hell was that?' she gasped, her brow drenched in sweat, her shoulder-length hair pasted to her neck.

'What? What happened to you?'

'I—I don't know.' Even as she considered what she'd just witnessed, the words she'd somehow managed to think even though they were not her own words, an inescapable, unequivocal realisation was dawning on her.

This was a message—a seraphic directive, straight from the angel himself.

Raziel wanted her to do this. She stared at her brother as the truth, indisputable in nature, washed over her, rocking her to her very core.

Ash filled Fallon in on everything she'd seen and she could see the scepticism building in his eyes as he listened. 'I think you're over-tired, Ash. You've been through a lot today. Get some sleep. We'll be at the London Institute by tomorrow morning,' he said, gently pressing her shoulder down onto the hard bed in the roadside motel.

They'd been travelling by bus, with no other way to go. But though she trusted Fallon's judgement above everyone else's, she could not shake the feeling that she was _supposed_ to help the Shadowhunter girl.

After another five minutes, she sat upright and looked over at Fallon, who had returned to his own bed, presumably no longer worried for her sanity.

'Fal—I'm going to find that girl. She's close. I can feel it. And she needs my help,' she whispered into the darkness. Ash distinctly heard her brother sigh and roll over.

'Please tell me you're kidding. It was just a dream, little sister, nothing more.'

Ash ground her teeth together. She did not appreciate being called _little sister._ 'Fallon! I'm going. You can come with me or you can stay here. If there's nothing to be found then that's fine, but I'm going to check it out anyway.'

'Let it go, Ashlin,' he said sharply, and she watched as the near-white of his hair rose into a sitting position in the gloom. She ignored the comment and swung her pyjama-clad legs out of bed. Throwing on her gear, she kept her back to her brother, who she could hear sighing exasperatedly. When she eventually turned around, he was also dressed. She opened her mouth to say something but his fingers laced around her wrist and pulled her arm forward before she could make a sound.

She felt the familiar burn of the stele on her arm as he marked her.

'Just in case,' he said as he finished. She drew a quick _iratze_ and a _mendelin _on his left arm and she lead the way from the dingy hotel room, wondering if she might need a soundless rune, too.

For twenty minutes, she walked purposefully, somehow knowing where she was going, and was comforted by her brother's stealthy footsteps at her back. This felt right. It felt like she knew where to go because she was supposed to be going there. This was _her_ task, set to her by the angel. She shook her head incredulously. She had no idea how this had happened to her, but she felt with absolute certainty that Raziel had contacted her for a reason.

When she broke through a line of trees onto an expansive park, she gasped. It was just like it had been in her vision. And there, just shy of the duck pond, was the Shadowhunter girl, locked in a lethal dance with the demon that had fire for hands.

Without pausing to think, Ash broke into a run, drawing a seraph blade from her belt.

'_Hadraniel_,' she murmured, and as always, the blade sprung forth, it's seraphic light glowing softly against her black-gloved hands. Even as she drew closer to the battling pair, she could tell the demon was getting the upper hand. The girl was parrying fewer blows and blood was flowing more freely from her arms and torso than it was from the demon that seemed comparatively defenceless.

The stench of the ugly creature was overpowering at a ten metre radius and as Ash registered Fallon running behind her, the girl cried out, taking a blast of purple fire to the chest, and fell backwards, slamming into the ground with an eerie crack. The light of her seraph blade began to flicker but Ash was within attacking distance of the oncoming demon now, and she was determined that this is what she had to do.

With a growl, she slashed the blade in a long, diagonal line from the demon's shoulder, coated in what at first she thought was fur, but turned out to be downward-facing quills, with a lethally sharp point, all the way to its opposite flank. It wasn't a deep cut. She'd been a little over-enthusiastic with her timing. She wasn't close enough to cause any real damage.

She heard Fallon shout '_Jehoel!_' and lunge forwards to assist her. He'd always been the better warrior and Ash wondered for a split second why Raziel had not felt it better to give a better fighter than her this vision. Maybe he had known Fallon would help her out. But that seemed so round about and more than a little hit and miss.

Obviously, her _mendelin_ rune did not work on this demon, as its black eyes followed her every twitch with careful menace. Between Fallon and Ash, they managed to strike the demon enough times to force it backwards, away from the fallen girl who was moaning and writhing on the ground, her eyes screwed tightly closed.

But Ash was distracted by this for just a second and a blaze of heat struck her right shoulder and burned its way across her chest. She screamed and fell to her knees, feeling the awful flames lick through her skin like they were driving into her bloodstream too. She managed to lift her face just in time to see Fallon swing _Jehoel_ out and slice the demon's head clean off. It began to fold in on itself, clouds of cloying, choking black dust pouring from its grey skin as it screeched. When it vanished, Ash's eyes began to blur and Fallon morphed into several shadowy outlines, rather than the solitary one he had been moments before.

He dropped to his knees beside her and she struggled to focus on which Fallon was the right one. His lips were moving but all she could hear was a roaring in her ears that was so loud it was beginning to deafen her. That, along with the burning in her torso, was almost too much for her. She could feel the solid ground turning to marshmallow beneath her hands and knees and the moon's white and grey colouring began to dribble into the night sky, streaking it with daubs of pale light.

When everything faded to blackness, it was almost a relief.


End file.
